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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29184150">Cinema 6</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabins/pseuds/cabins'>cabins</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Developing Relationship, Fear, Friendship/Love, Horror, Hurt No Comfort, Loss, M/M, Minor Injuries, Self-Sacrifice, Supernatural Elements, Thriller, suna has so much love to give</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:28:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,021</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29184150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabins/pseuds/cabins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ya' kiss yer mother with that mouth?”</p>
<p>Suna raised a brow incredulously at the other boy, “Quit acting like you haven’t willingly shoved your tongue down my throat and tell me what rooms I gotta clean.”</p>
<p>Osamu scrunched his nose up in disgust, “Gross, don’t say it like that,” he grimaced, “Cinema room six is all that’s left, I think,”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cinema 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you'd like to listen to some of the songs I listened to while writing this, feel free to check out the Spotify playlist <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ndZtZnHwyFHcvzEeqcLsQ">here</a>!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Have a nice night,” Suna dully called to the couple exiting the theatre, scowling at the sight of their popcorn bags as they tossed them to the ground beside the garbage can. If the unknown man pissed like he cleaned up after himself, he feared for the state of his bathroom. He propped his broom up against the glass candy display case, jumping up to sit on the counter as he watched the swinging front door settle behind the last customers of the day.</p>
<p>“Do I need to buy ya a stress ball for yer birthday? Don’t go poppin’ a blood vessel over spilt popcorn there Rin,” Osamu commented, popping up from where he’d ducked down behind the countertop, a clean rag and disinfectant spray in hand. </p>
<p>“It’s less about the popcorn and more about the act itself,” he grumbled in response, swinging his legs back and forth. His heels bumped rhythmically against the scratched up wood panelling of the concessions stand, “It’s not that hard to throw your trash away. I was already going to have to clean the entire lobby before clocking out, and now they’ve added another 5 minutes of unpaid overtime to that.”</p>
<p>“Yer bein’ dramatic.”</p>
<p>“And <em>yer </em>being unsympathetic,” Suna countered, mimicking the other boy's thick accent.</p>
<p>Osamu snorted, spraying the disinfectant on the rag and rubbing it in circles on the old, worn counter, “Hey, I gave ya' the option earlier to clean out the last few theatres and ya' said no. Ya' only have yerself to blame,”</p>
<p>“Yeah, because last time I agreed to that bullshit I got stuck cleaning the lobby too,” he said, staring forward and into the dull eyes of a prize toy in a claw machine opposite to them.</p>
<p>The clock was nearing midnight, and by the time it reached one thirty in the morning the two would be on their way home. Suna couldn’t stand working at the theatre. He’d leave smelling like buttered popcorn, the families that came in together made him never want children of his own, and having to interrupt couples he went to school with who’d decided the nosebleeds were the best place to get freaky was a weekly occurrence that he could have gone his entire life without experiencing.</p>
<p>“That was because someone from corporate showed up, that ain’t my fault,” Osamu defended, pausing his cleaning to raise his hands in surrender as Suna turned back to narrow his eyes at him, “this time the offer is real,”</p>
<p>“Deal, then. It's about time you got your turn walking home with sticky shoes,”</p>
<p>“Yer the only one that happens to, Rin,” Osamu reached forward and slapped the back of his hand against Suna’s hip, causing the middle blocker to swing back with a slap of his own, “Now move, ya fat bastard. I have to get this counter clean already,”</p>
<p>“Are you calling <em>me</em> fat?” Suna feigned offence, pressing a hand to his chest as he hopped down. His sneakers slapped against the old, grimy tile flooring - soda stains in the grout and old chewing gum smashed up against it gave way to the truth of its age.</p>
<p>“Nah, I’m talkin’ to yer ass. Nice pants, by the way,” Osamu teased, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. The younger twin liked to deny just how similar he was to his brother as much as he possibly could, but even right down to the way they smiled you could tell they shared DNA. </p>
<p>He and Osamu had something of a complicated relationship - complicated for Suna, something for Osamu. They were just two guys who were best friends and happened to confess their feelings for each other on a crumb covered couch in one Aran Ojiro’s basement at a post-nationals party. There was nothing romantic about the confession, so it shouldn’t have been as startling as it was to see how unromantic their relationship continued to be.</p>
<p>Osamu had said something about things ‘not changing’ between the two of them after the confession which was essentially the other boy’s way of saying ‘let’s just be friends with benefits’, which would have been fine with Suna had he actually gotten the benefits.</p>
<p>(Unless getting the soft blanket at sleepovers with the grey-haired boy counted as a benefit, he was getting scammed.)</p>
<p>Flirting was commonplace, the tension was thick as Atsumu was dumb, and yet nothing happened. Sure, maybe there was some hand-holding occasionally and cuddling that walked the fine line between romantic and platonic far too often, but they weren’t dating.</p>
<p>Much to his dismay, there was absolutely nothing serious going on between him and Miya Osamu, unless one counted the times the two had snuck up to the projector room to make out during their shift as something serious.</p>
<p>(“Making out with someone isn’t ‘benefits’ - it’s just a friend thing, y’know?”</p>
<p>“Would you make out with me?”<br/>
<br/>
“Absolutely not. That’s weird,”<br/>
<br/>
“Suna, I hate to break it to you, but it isn’t just a friend thing,”)</p>
<p>Suna rolled this eyes, picking his broom back up and heading to put it back in its place in the restricted area behind the concessions stand, “They’re the same pants I always wear, quit acting like they’re new,”</p>
<p>“They don’t gotta be new to look good on ya. Why else do ya’ think I’ve had you sweepin’ for the last half hour while I scrub the counters?” Osamu called as the doors swung closed behind him.</p>
<p>Their dynamic suited them well. It didn’t <em>need</em> to change, even if Suna often wondered what it’d be like to go on a romantic date in the city instead of spending every weekend eating fast food on the curb outside KFC. He got to keep things in the comfortable limbo they’d always been in with the added benefits of intimacy that could still be passed off as platonic. It may not have been the best set up, but it was ideal for what they both needed and wanted out of each other.</p>
<p>Suna tossed the broom into the corner with all the cleaning supplies, tugging his hoodie off the hook in the employee lounge and over his head. The unbearable chill of the theatre was only exasperated at night, where the thermostat seemed to automatically turn the entire cinema into a walk-in freezer. Temporarily violating uniform regulation long after the building had been vacated by any movie-goers was something of a trade-off.</p>
<p>“Oi, Rin!” Osamu called from the lobby. His voice was muffled by the distance, but loud enough to overpower the low hum of the AC, “Bring me out the mop and bucket while yer in there, yeah?”</p>
<p>He glanced once over at the cleaning supplies, then turned his back on them and pushed his way back into the lobby, “Get them yourself, dickhead. Now tell me which rooms need be done so the both of us can get out of here on time,”</p>
<p>“Ya' kiss yer mother with that mouth?”Suna raised a brow incredulously at the other boy, “Quit acting like you haven’t willingly shoved your tongue down my throat and tell me what rooms I gotta clean.”</p>
<p>Osamu scrunched his nose up in disgust, “Gross, don’t say it like that,” he grimaced, “Cinema room six is all that’s left, I think,”</p>
<p>“Is the supply cart still down that way?” Suna asked, glancing down the empty hallway lined with large, glowing numbers.</p>
<p>Osamu slipped past him and pressed forward on the door to the employees’ room, “‘Course it is, I’m not a heathen. It’s fully stocked too if ya’ were even considerin’ accusing me of leavin’ it empty this time,”</p>
<p>Suna let the corner of his mouth quirk upwards, and small, invisible reaction, “Wouldn’t dream of it,”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Tugging his bunched up headphones from his pocket, Suna silently slipped the buds in his ears. Doing a final clean at the end of the day was a boring, repetitive, and occasionally disgusting task that required some sort of brain stimulation to get through. Without a steady stream of music, he’d have to hear the sound of his shoes sticking to spilt soda on the LED-lit walkway and, in a worst-case scenario, the distinct hum of a malfunctioning projector in the film room above.</p>
<p>Fixing a projector was far above his pay grade, but the only way he could seriously get away with ignoring it was by feigning ignorance.</p>
<p>After a few taps on his phone, he shoved it in his hoodie pocket as the familiar strum of a guitar filtered its way to his ears. Humming along to the tune, he toed the theatre door open and pulled the supply cart forward, propping the entrance open with it as he pulled off the broom and dustpan.</p>
<p>Beginning at the nosebleeds, he started his cleaning regimen, sweeping up piles of dropped popcorn and discarded 3D glasses as he went.</p>
<p>Working at a movie theatre was like working at a fast-food job that liked to pretend it was retail. It sucked in every way both retail and fast-food sucked, but without the added benefit of reasonable hours and adequate staffing.</p>
<p>It was dull and repetitive, only made bearable through lunch breaks and decent coworkers. He and Osamu had applied together - both looking for a little extra cash to spend and hoping that working together would mean more time to screw around and have fun. It hadn’t taken them long to realize how naive their motivations had been. It wasn’t often they got the same shift, and even less often they got to screw around during it. When they’d gotten their first schedules, their disappointment had been immeasurable.</p>
<p>He supposed it had been something of a reality check; a slap in the face to tell them to grow up.</p>
<p>Midway through a sweep of his broom, Suna paused, feeling an uncomfortable chill down his spine as he stood around the middle of the theatre, only a few seats away from the walkway. He pulled a headphone out of his ear, leaving it dangling in front of his as he twisted to look towards the entrance. Staying still, he called out to the emptiness, “Osamu?”</p>
<p>The silence that followed felt eerie and unnatural; as if he weren’t in a theatre in Hyogo anymore, and instead on some alien planet. It felt like a spotlight had been shone on him, and the theatre room he’d cleaned probably hundreds of times was not the place he remembered. </p>
<p>After a minute of no response, Suna returned to sweeping, pulling fallen popcorn and candies from their place hidden beneath plush red seats and into the aisle to be tossed out.</p>
<p>The feeling of uneasiness didn’t leave, though, and it had him glancing back to the door and up towards the place where the projector peaked out more often than he ever had before. Their theatre wasn’t in a bad place in town, nor was it particularly old. He’d read anecdotes online of movie theatre horror stores before, but their place of work wasn’t exactly the prime example of the kind of place someone would experience those kinds of horrors.</p>
<p>A loud thump from the entrance to the cinema made him jump and flip back around, heart pounding rapidly in his chest as he waited for the source to reveal itself.</p>
<p>“Osamu? Is that you?”</p>
<p>Silence. The air felt thick, and Suna swallowed the lump forming in his throat.</p>
<p>“If you’re trying to prank me, seriously knock it off. I’m not in the mood today,” he tried to keep his voice steady as he called out into the empty room, hoping to hide how uneasy he truly felt. Despite the unknown identity of whoever was by his cart at the entrance, Suna had never felt more like prey being stalked by a predator than he did surrounded by blood-red faux-velvet and yellowing LED lights.</p>
<p>He was a middle blocker. Being stared down by enemy teams and analyzed like food was something he was used to, and yet, this was a feeling unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.</p>
<p>He heard something push the cart again, the wheels squeaking as they rolled forward. The distinct sound of the heavy door swinging shut reverberating through the floor and the narrow cubby it resided in. The silence continued to follow.</p>
<p>He felt afraid to breathe - like one wrong exhale would reveal his exact location. Every movement felt too loud; the fabric of his pants rubbing together, the slide of his shoes against the carpet as he stepped backwards, and the tap of his broom against the wall as he set it down.</p>
<p>“Sorry, Suna. It’s just me, Osamu. We’re all outta wipes up front so I was just grabbin’ some from ‘ere. I didn’t mean to scare ya,”</p>
<p>Suna’s breath caught in his throat, eyes widening in panic as he slowly put distance between himself and the entrance.</p>
<p>He didn’t know what was going on, nor who the individual at the door was, but he knew down to his core that whoever it was was not who they said they were. That was not Osamu.</p>
<p>Any one of their coworkers wouldn’t have noticed, but Suna did the second he’d heard his family name spoken aloud into the quiet. The mimicked voice had Osamu’s speech patterns and distinct drawl perfected. It was terrifying to think of how quickly he may have let his guard down had he not been addressed at all.</p>
<p>What was surely only seconds drew out to feel like hours; an eternity of small, cautious steps backwards in a futile attempt to escape whoever was trying to get to him.</p>
<p>Suna let out a shaky, uneasy breath as he watched for a moment unblinkingly, hands shaking violently as waves of fear overcame him.</p>
<p>“Suna?”</p>
<p>The voice called for him again just as he reached the employees only door by the blank white screen. He gently wrapped his hand around the cold steel handlebar, putting the most minute pressure on the springs.</p>
<p>Silence. Nothing but the sound of shallow breaths and his beating heart could be heard.</p>
<p>The tiniest squeak of the supply cart wheels harmonized with the minute clicks of the door handle. The loud, near-deafening bang that followed as the cart surged forward and into the wall sent him through the door in a flurry.</p>
<p>The sound of heavy steps pounded down the aisle as he wrenched the door shut behind him, heart pumping with adrenaline, nerves electrified at the hands of his unknown attacker, and mind moving a million miles a minute with thoughts of the real Osamu.</p>
<p>The unknown taunted him as he stumbled on a ledge, the door he’d closed only moments before opening with ease. The promise of safety lay beyond the theatre - only the briefest of moments and he would be safe. He wouldn’t spend his last moments begging for his life surrounded by old gum stuck to even older seats and melted chocolate that had found its home on the floor of Cinema four.</p>
<p>He was Eve, and safety was the forbidden fruit dangling right in front of him. Would Osamu be his Adam? Would his futile search for freedom and escape doom him too?</p>
<p>If Suna were to leave, Osamu would be sentenced to a fate far worse than exile from the Garden of Eden.</p>
<p>“Osamu-!” He cried out, wrenching open the entryway door to Cinema four and flying into the hallway. Slipping on the carpet, he stumbled his way towards the lobby. The pressure behind him continued to build, the creature after him hot on his heels as he ran from it.</p>
<p>It was kind of a sick and twisted way for his story to end, he supposed. Chased through a place he hated the most, by an unknown monster, with his last thoughts and words of Osamu and nobody else. His parents would be disappointed.</p>
<p>All things considered, Kita would likely be disappointed too, especially if he’d been there to bear witness as Suna tripped over a mop discarded haphazardly on the floor, tumbling forwards across dusty carpet and stained tile.</p>
<p>He braced himself for something - impact, a blinding white light guiding him to the afterlife, anything - but nothing ever came. All that remained after the fall was the hum of the lights up above, and the blood rushing through his ears.</p>
<p>“Rin? Ya’ look like ya’ just saw a ghost,”</p>
<p>Blinking slowly, Suna looked upward from where he laid cowering on the ground, eyes scanning the hallway behind Osamu where he’d just been running.</p>
<p>“Were you the one chasing me?”<br/>
<br/>
“What are ya on about? I was just in the back room grabbin’ my jacket ‘cause I was cold,” Osamu regarded him quizzically, “We’re the only ones in ‘ere,”</p>
<p>“We’re not,” He responded breathlessly, pushing himself up on shaky legs and staring down the hallway behind Osamu as though their lives depended on it. Frankly, they probably did.</p>
<p>“We’re not the only people in here. We need to leave,”</p>
<p>Osamu rolled his eyes, “Jeez, I knew ya’ hated cleanin’ the cinema rooms but yer really outdoin’ yerself this time. I ain’t cleanin’ it for ya’, alright?”</p>
<p>Movement at the other end of the hallway caught Suna’s eye. An unidentifiable shadow, a spectre with milk-white eyes. Desperately, he tugged on the spiker’s jacket, “I’m not joking right now, Osamu. I’m dead serious,”</p>
<p>“It’s at the end of the hallway right now, watching us,” he pleaded.</p>
<p>Osamu turned his gaze from Suna to the hall, squinting as he searched for movement or a sign of life, “I don’t see anythin’ down there, Rin. Are ya’ Hallucinatin’? Did ya’ not sleep last night or somethin’?”</p>
<p>Suna dared to tear his gaze away from the creature, turning to Osamu, “No - that thing is definitely there. You can think I’m crazy all you want, but we need to leave.”</p>
<p>“Look,” Osamu began, “Yer comin’ off a little crazy, sure, but ya’ wouldn’t run out ‘ere screamin’ for me if ya’ didn’t think there was a problem,”</p>
<p>Suna dragged his gaze back to the hall, now empty - the spectre gone from sight. He whipped his head around to check behind him, but the empty, vaulted lobby was devoid of life aside from the two of them.</p>
<p>“We can lock up early, we’re pretty much done anyway,” He continued, “Yer gonna be getting some decent sleep tonight whether ya’ like it or not. I don’t care what ya’ say, knowing you yer definitely sleep-deprived.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Clocking out and leaving the dark theatre behind them for the night didn’t put the feeling of uneasiness to rest. Suna felt like he was on high alert, carefully watching every shadow on their walk home under dim streetlights just in case one decided to pounce.</p>
<p>He couldn’t shake the feeling of being followed - the feeling of eyes belonging to something with only malicious intent burning into his back. He was vulnerable, and even more so with Osamu by his side.</p>
<p>Growing up watching countless movies a day over the summer vacation with his cousins in Aichi had taught him many lessons; your weaknesses can become your strengths, things get worse before they get better, and if there’s still an hour left when something really bad is happening, the protagonist will end up alright.</p>
<p>The importance of friendships and connections wasn’t lost on him, though. Having someone by your side made you powerful and dangerous. Megamind was more powerful when he had the world on his side as opposed to when he fought so valiantly against it.</p>
<p>The thing was, despite the power he held with Roxanne as an ally, she was also an exploited weakness.</p>
<p>“Jesus Rin, could ya’ think a little quieter over there?”</p>
<p>Suna glanced over at the other boy, meeting his gaze for a brief moment as they passed over a crosswalk. The streets were empty, and aside from the distant hum of light traffic, the only sounds filling the night were the light patter of their steps on the cracked pavement.</p>
<p>Osamu’s keys jingled quietly in his pocket, and in the low light made his grey hair seem almost black. He couldn’t remember when all his memories of Osamu’s natural hair had faded and been systematically replaced with images of steely grey. The only moments he got with what felt like the purest form of his friend were through old photographs hung on the walls of the Miya household and in the dark of night bathed in shadow.</p>
<p>“What’re ya’ thinkin’ about anyway?” Osamu hummed, dropping his pace to walk side-by-side with him.</p>
<p>“Megamind,”</p>
<p>Osamu raised an eyebrow curiously, “What about it?”</p>
<p>“How I’m Megamind and you’re Roxanne,” His voice stayed even, but his lips twitched upward into the faintest of smiles, “Atsumu is Minion, in case you were wondering,”</p>
<p>Osamu’s own smile matched his own, and a small chuckle escaped his lips. Some claimed beauty was subjective, but Suna liked to argue that there wasn’t a soul on planet earth who’d think Osamu was anything but.</p>
<p>Call it sappy, but it was true. He couldn’t have picked a prettier guy to be not-so-boyfriends with.</p>
<p>“Mind tellin’ me why yer thinkin’ about Megamind?” Osamu prodded, shuffling in closer to the middle blocker.</p>
<p>“Well, I-“</p>
<p>The snap of a twig behind them made Suna jump and turn to see if he would be facing his attacker again. Nothing was there except for a small kitten skittering away down the street.</p>
<p>Suna liked to think he had nerves of steel on the court, but he’d never tested to see if it was a skill that applied outside of volleyball. He sucked in a deep breath, hands shaking ever-so-slightly as he watched the cat slink into the shadows.</p>
<p>“Sorry-“</p>
<p>“That shit at the theatre really messed ya’ up, huh?”</p>
<p>Suna twisted back around, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “I know you don’t believe me, but I know what I saw,” He mumbled, toeing at the cracked sidewalk beneath them, “I’m uneasy about it. Still feels like something is after me,”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t see anythin’, Rin. I’m sure yer safe,” Osamu said quietly, a rough, calloused hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder.</p>
<p>Suna shrugged it off with a roll of his eyes, “Don’t baby me,” he scowled. Osamu followed quickly behind, and Suna could feel his concerned gaze on him. It was nothing like the feeling of being watched by the spectre - the creature’s eyes had left burns up and down his pale skin, while Osamu’s concern was a cool, soothing breeze to ease the pain.</p>
<p>“I don’t care if I probably <em>am </em>safe, because I sure as hell don’t feel like it.”<br/>
<br/>
“Ya’ think yer gonna be fine alone at yer place?” the spiker shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, mimicking Suna’s posture.</p>
<p>He shrugged silently, briefly glancing back behind them, “Who knows. Probably not,”</p>
<p>“Stay with me and ‘Tsumu for tonight then. Our parents plan to be back early in the mornin’ anyways,” he offered, nudging Suna’s side with his elbow.</p>
<p>He stared forward, straining his eyes against the darkness. Just around the next corner would be his house, and a left after that would be the Miya family home. He was well acquainted with the space, but it never stopped him from feeling like he was intruding in a place he didn’t belong.</p>
<p>Suna leaned closer to Osamu, letting their elbows knock against each other and shoulders press close as they walked, “You’re gonna tell Atsumu why I’m there and he’ll just make fun of me,” he muttered.</p>
<p>“Nah, that scrub doesn’t need to know. I won’t say a word,”<br/>
<br/>
The middle blocker snorted, “Tell me why I don’t believe a word coming out of your mouth, huh?”</p>
<p>“Look,” Osamu started, tilting his head to watch him, “I swear I won’t say a thing. Pinky promise,” He said firmly, slipping a hand out of his pocket and offering an extended pinky finger to him.</p>
<p>Even in the shadows, the distinct dust of rosy pink across the spiker’s cheekbones was noticeable. With a tiny smile and the tips of his ears turning hot, Suna accepted the offer.</p>
<p>Pinkies linked together; a terrified teens embrace. Together in the early hours of the morning with silent promises hanging in the air.</p>
<p>“Atsumu wouldn’t ‘ave been able to say nothin’ to ya’ about bein’ scared anyway. He’s a big baby - had nightmares when we were kids about the Scooby-Doo live-action,”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“God, ‘Tsumu, yer real shit at video games,” Osamu snorted from his place on the top bunk, arm hanging over the edge and smooth skin bathed in bright blue from the screen.</p>
<p>From his seat on the floor, Atsumu let out a sound of annoyance, “Shut up, yer not any better.”</p>
<p>Suna pulled the spare blanket he’d been given closer to himself, stretching his legs out over the edge of Atsumu’s mattress and relishing at the resistance of the wall behind him against his stiff shoulders.</p>
<p>The silence drew out between the three of them; not warm, like he and Osamu’s silences, or cold like the one that befell him in the theatre. A lukewarm silence - like when your tea was still technically warm but cold enough that every sip was unenjoyable. The only sound that occupied their small little world inside the twins’ shared bedroom was that of the controller buttons and the video-game’s sound effects.</p>
<p>Moonlight filtered in from the window on the far end of the room, and knowing how nights like these usually went, it’d be morning before he knew it. The chilly hues of the witching hour would gradually warm, leaving nothing more than dark bags under the three boys’ eyes and a heavy weight in their limbs.</p>
<p>Sure, staying up late was irresponsible, but he figured tonight was excusable.</p>
<p>Sounds of the old house settling mixed with the harsh violent sounds of whatever game Atsumu had fixated on were indistinguishable to him. The sound of simulated footsteps and the creak of the floorboards downstairs too similar for Suna to distinguish without proper attention.</p>
<p>He didn’t know the house in the same way the twins did. The two knew the ins-and-outs of it like they did each other’s breathing. It left him at ease, especially with thoughts of glassy eyes and wispy forms clinging to him like gum to a shoe.</p>
<p>Suna tucked his legs back in, bringing his knees to his chest as he focused his heavy, tired eyes on the TV screen. He didn’t recognize the shooter the setter was playing, but it seemed interesting enough aside from the difficult level he seemed to have gotten stuck on. It was Atsumu’s fifth try in a row of the same mission when he selected to play again, and Osamu’s giggles filled his heart from above.</p>
<p>“Yer gonna die to that guy with the bazooka again,” the younger teased.</p>
<p>“Get down ‘ere and do it yerself then,” Atsumu scowled, pressing pause on the game.</p>
<p>The twins were competitive. Every challenge was met with open arms, so not a bone in Suna’s body was surprised to see Osamu jump from his bed and to the ground - something that left the various decorations around the room rattling. The grey-haired twin wasn’t graceful. He fumbled around and walked with a heavy step. He was like a taller-than-the-national-average brick wall.</p>
<p>(Osamu wasn’t dumb, either, but his lack of empathy for his ankles and the abuse they suffered via shock at the spiker’s hands made him worry for his not-so-boyfriends future in his old age.)</p>
<p>Suna could see Atsumu and Osamu’s eyes meet the moment he hit the floor, and both of them simultaneously glance over to the door. The controller had become something long forgotten, dropping dully to the floor with a muffled thump.</p>
<p>The lukewarm silence fell like a blanket over them again, and Suna couldn’t help but swallow the nervous lump forming in his throat. The thrill of competition had been sliced in half, and everything that had hung in the air only seconds earlier had dissipated.</p>
<p>“‘Samu,” Atsumu mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows together and peering past his brother and towards the direction of the hallway, “Did ya hear somethin’ from out there? Like, a thump right after you’d hit the ground?”</p>
<p>Osamu shot a sideways glance towards Suna, “yeah, I think I did,” he breathed, standing silent and still for a moment afterwards, as though he were waiting to hear the noise again.</p>
<p>Suna pressed himself up straight, eyes wide and fatigue melting away as adrenaline flowed through him in its place.<br/>
<br/>
“Do you think,” he paused, tearing his gaze away from Osamu to the door, “do you think something’s gotten inside?”</p>
<p>The words were left unspoken, but the meaning of what he said was not missed. The implication that Suna’s prior feeling of being watching - being followed - as they’d walked home from work had not been paranoia after all was heavy in the air.</p>
<p>“I feel like I’m missing something here,” Atsumu began hesitantly, gradually pushing himself up from the ground. Suna followed suit, sliding off the bottom bunk as Osamu edged towards the bedroom door.</p>
<p>Suna opened his mouth to speak, willing words out of his mouth as panic settled deep in his gut. Nothing escaped his lips.</p>
<p>He watched intently as Osamu’s hand wrapped itself around the door’s metal knob, twisting it slowly until he could pull it open. The hinges squeaked in protest, and Suna pushed himself forward against the will of his instincts to peak out into the hall.</p>
<p>“Rin,” Osamu began, his voice barely above a whisper. Suna held out a hand to silence him, sending back a glare with no bite as he pressed himself further.</p>
<p>The floorboards beneath his socked feet creaked under his weight. Each step felt like a homing radar for the enemy as he fought to sense danger - as his eyes searched the hallway for something, <em>anything</em>, that could have been a threat.</p>
<p>It was empty. Dust hung stagnant in the air and the only sounds that filled the space were those of the long-forgotten video game still running on its pause screen in the twin’s room. The moonlight from the window in the hallway illuminated the old worn carpet that dressed the floor.</p>
<p>Perhaps it was all the horror movies he’d seen play on the big screen at the theatre that stopped him from calling out into the frozen space - there were few things worse than dying at the hands of the monster, but being at fault for your own death and the death of your friends most certainly was amongst the things that beat it out.</p>
<p>He peered hesitantly over the banister of the steps and in almost an instant that same feeling from the theatre washed over him. Cold and chilling - a feeling of regret, of unimaginable fear. It was the feeling of a mistake, like guilt that burned its way through your stomach and into your very soul. It branded itself on his skin like venom and sucked on his blood like a leach.</p>
<p><em>It</em> was there, mere feet away hidden in the shroud of darkness at the bottom of the staircase.</p>
<p>Wide-eyed, Suna whipped around, dashing back into the room and slamming the door shut behind him, “Barricade it,” he breathed, pressing his back against it as he heard the heavy thump of footsteps making their way slowly upstairs, “We need to get out, <em>now,</em>”</p>
<p>The urgency in his voice must have been enough to convince the two to move - that, or the growing sound of footsteps outside their door. In the end, what got them to move didn’t matter. They were racing against an unknown beast for the second time that night. At the very least, it hadn’t stolen any voices yet.</p>
<p>A desk chair wedged underneath the handle, the window slid open and the cool drafty breeze from outside blew in with thunderous footsteps rocking the house as they put up their defence. They were cornered - once again prey for the predator.</p>
<p>Humans once thought of themselves to be the top of the food chain - saw themselves as if they were above every other creature in existence. It is within the tiny bedroom of his teenage friends that Suna had quickly come to realize that there were far scarier things walking amongst the living than humans themselves.</p>
<p>“We’re gonna have to jump,” Osamu said, sticking his head out the window. His voice was unsteady and wavering and it made Suna’s heart ache. The thundering inside grew louder, almost in time with the beats of his heart.</p>
<p>“Rin, you go first. We’ll follow after,"</p>
<p>His heart thundered as loud as death wailed. It was the hymn of his mortality as death sung the song that would walk him to his grave.</p>
<p>With a nod, Suna slid himself until he was propped on the window sill, hanging on only by his fingers as the air blew in gusts outside. Like a buffering movie on a scratched Blu-Ray disk, or a VHS tape ejected midway through a film and never rewound; life in their small little bubble hung in the balance.</p>
<p>Bracing himself, he sucked in a shaky breath before making his jump.</p>
<p>In theory, jumping from a second-story window was a pretty bad idea. In practice, it was even worse. The moment Suna hit the ground he could feel the lightning-like bolt of pain shoot up from his ankle and the fire-like sensation that soon followed with every breath and movement. A painful gasp escaped his lips as he curled in on himself, forehead pressed against the dry dirt of the empty flower bed.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” he breathed through gritted teeth, crawling away from the point he’d fallen to make room for the other two boys to follow. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes as he watched Osamu get into position to follow after him.</p>
<p>“Be careful!” He called out, pressing his back up against the wooden fence to the Miya’s garden as he braced himself to stand. He was going to have to kiss Volleyball goodbye for the rest of the year, but living was far more important in his book.</p>
<p>He wasn’t Atsumu. To the blond, Volleyball <em>was</em> living. He loved the sport, sure, but things like late-night Konbini visits with Osamu and stargazing on school nights were far more important to him.</p>
<p>A fleeting few hours of pain that would prevent him from dying at the hands of a shadowed supernatural beast was worth it. Worth it for camping in the woods in the humidity of July; for skinny dipping in the neighbour’s backyard pool as cicadas sang in August; for stolen kisses beneath the harvest moon in September.</p>
<p>Worth it to be able to experience all those things over and over and over again with Osamu - memories of terror and fright far behind them. To be able to look back in fifty years in a home of his own, still dealing with the Miya twins far past an age that his first-year self would’ve dreamed he’d be and have lived. That was a dream, <em>the</em> dream.</p>
<p>Osamu, from his place perched on the window sill, shot him a concerned look, mouthing something unrecognizable his way before quickly twisting around to relay it to Atsumu as well.</p>
<p>The universe is cruel. It lets you beg and long for things that will never happen. It leads you on and lies, just for the twisted satisfaction of watching the light leave your eyes as it crushes your wishes to dust.</p>
<p>In the same second Suna saw the light of hope shining down on him, he also watched as his dreams disintegrated like the bones of ancient corpses left to decompose six feet under.</p>
<p>Green irises watched as Osamu was shoved from the window, just barely evading the formless claw of the unknown beast. Attentive ears heard the thunderous crash that preluded his fall, and the bloody screams from inside the home that were cut short.</p>
<p>The small, delicate bubble that incased their lives had popped. Nothing remained - not even the faintest of breaths or a lingering image of a lopsided grin.</p>
<p>Frozen in place, Suna tore his eyes from the motionless window and down towards Osamu. The spiker was laid on his back, sucking in laboured breaths as he stared shell-shocked up at his room.</p>
<p>“…’Tsumu…?” He croaked, voice barely above a whisper. It ripped through the steadily growing silence and settled in the air in the very place a response should have been.</p>
<p>Suna gripped the wooden fence, pulling himself up to his feet and biting back a noise of pain and protest as he did. He tried to shake off what had happened, push it into the back of his mind until he could get them out of there. Whatever had happened to Atsumu, it certainly wasn’t good.</p>
<p>He hobbled his way over to Osamu as the other boy laid still, eyes glossy with tears of realization and nerves thrumming with shock.</p>
<p>“We need to run, Osamu,” Suna said hastily, glancing warily between the silent, still window and the boy laying below him.</p>
<p>“But,” Osamu swallowed, pushing himself upwards into a seated position, “‘Tsumu, we can’t just leave him-”</p>
<p>“Osamu,”</p>
<p>“Rin, please, we have to-”</p>
<p>“Osamu,” Suna choked out, biting down hard on his lip in an attempt to hold back the flood of tears that threatened to rip itself from him. “<em>Please</em>, we need to go,” he begged, watery eyes meeting watery eyes.</p>
<p>The beast above howled like a werewolf on a full moon, letting the world know of its crimes and intentions. Helpless prey for the predator to feast on, they were like birds fleeing for safety as a seasoned hunter steadied his rifle.</p>
<p>After a moment of hesitation, Osamu got to his feet, “Lemme help ya’ walk. Lean on me to take some pressure off yer foot,” he said quietly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as he began to move with haste.</p>
<p>They set off down the street, heading towards the closest place they knew there would be others around. The way the entity worked and existed had no rhyme or reason to it. It hunted prey indiscriminately, but at the very least they hoped that it wasn’t immune to weaponry or lethal force.</p>
<p>The police station was around one and a half kilometres from the Miya family home, and Suna just prayed to whichever gods were watching that the creature was far, far behind them. Suna had only barely managed to evade it in the theatre, and Osamu had nearly been taken by the black claw of the demon - the image of what the entity would do to them if it found them in the open street of the suburbs with nowhere to run was not one he wanted to imagine.</p>
<p>It was all too real, all too serious to jumpstart the curiosity of imagination with ‘what-ifs’. Imagination was a hurdle in the way of survival when your life was only hanging on by a single black thread.</p>
<p>Suna’s toe hooked on a lip of the sidewalk and he sucked in a gasp, fingers tightening around Osamu’s shoulder. He glanced carefully behind them, letting out a ragged breath.<br/>
<br/>
“I think it’s following us,” he whispered into the other boy’s ear, tearing his gaze away from the dimly lit darkness behind them and back to the hazy pavement ahead.</p>
<p>A silent warning to the empty sky. He was left unanswered as Osamu’s glossy gaze stayed forward. The husk and his husband; the boy and the hollow body; the cracked glass heart of a lost man that guarded his love like gold.</p>
<p>When looking death in the eye, one has to ask if they plan to beg the reaper for another chance at their life or that of another. Suna had always thought himself to be selfish - that he’d choose his life over anyone else’s. Perhaps it’s when you’re hand in hand with the angels of light and peace that you fear the cloaked darkness of the unknown the most.</p>
<p>With deaths chapped, cold lips pressed to his cheek, Suna begged for two twin boys he’d only known since first-year. He begged for messy kitchens and late-night volleyball drills. He begged for bunk beds and matching sweaters. He begged for stained bathroom counters and box-dye on Friday nights.</p>
<p>He pled for a life he’d never know because without a hint of hesitation he offered his soul in this life and the next in return for a response to his prayers. He called into the void and was met with nothing. Destiny is cruel for the very same reasons the universe is.</p>
<p>For beggars, there is no happy ending. When you look death in the eye, it is always the end of the road.</p>
<p>“Osamu,” Suna began again, words shaky and just as quiet as before. Despite his voice being a whisper, it felt deafening, “You need to run. The park is coming up on our right. Once you see it, go and don’t turn back until you reach the tree with the tire swing. I’ll run and meet you there too,”</p>
<p>He squeezed the other boy into his side in a half hug, watching as the sign for the park came into view. Dark oak illuminated under yellow streetlights - the forest behind an inky-black stain. His heart thundered loudly in his chest, and he hoped it was only him who could hear it.</p>
<p>“Not without you,” Osamu bit back, loosening his grip around Suna’s firm torso and grabbing his hand instead, roughly tugging him along down the cracked concrete path towards the forest as they fled.</p>
<p>The nerves in his ankle and leg burned like a fire had been lit amongst the tendons. Each step felt like nails digging into his skin. There was no way he wasn’t doing some sort of irreparable damage to the joint, but frankly, he didn’t care.</p>
<p>Suna Rintarou three days prior would have cared. Suna Rintarou three hours into the future would probably care. At three in the morning being hunted for sport by a spectre from cinema room six, Suna Rintarou didn’t care.</p>
<p>It was almost peaceful, in a grim, terrifying way. Running through the forest as the sun only just barely peaked above the horizon. The burning thrill of adrenaline dulled the pains and aches of his body as Osamu’s hand kept him in the present.</p>
<p>A comfort where comfort should not be found.</p>
<p>Even in the low-light, the gnarly, dead branches of the tire-swing tree were recognizable. Osamu hurriedly pulled Suna along, ignoring winces of pain as they dodged low hanging branches and fallen logs. It was a common hangout spot amongst Inarizaki’s second years. When the weather was good and the schoolwork was low, they’d spend weekend afternoons draped across rotting logs and hanging upside down from stiff branches in the clearing deep within the park’s green-space.</p>
<p>Stuffed in log holes were empty energy drinks and novelty bottle caps. Stuck in the grooves of the old tire-swing were tickets from shitty movies they’d gone to watch and detention slips for tardiness.</p>
<p>The tree that supported the swing was wide and sprawling - a behemoth of the forest. Its thick, sturdy trunks had twisted around each other in knots, creating a small sheltered hut within its arms big enough for two.</p>
<p>They shot through the worn, barely-there path that led to the clearing, slipping into the warm embrace of the old tree and praying their route for escape had gone unseen.</p>
<p>Within the safety of their hideaway, shoulder to shoulder in the dark with the sound of settling branches outside filling the empty space alongside their ragged, shallow breaths, Suna Rintarou once more began to care.</p>
<p>He cared about how his socks were damp and muddy, and how the chilly morning air was making him cold. He cared about the way his ankle was swelling and tender to touch. He cared about the hollow feeling in his chest every time he turned to look at grey hair and imagined blond right beside it.</p>
<p>Suna had never been good at prioritizing things. He liked to approach life as though every day were a new, empty drawing board. The selfishness he’d so often regarded as something unchangeable melted through him like the wax of a candle.</p>
<p>In the grand scheme of things, confronted by the daunting task of caring more about someone else other than himself, he cared.</p>
<p>He cared about the blue tinge to Osamu’s lips as the chill of the cold mud and crisp morning air bit into his soft, pale skin. He longed to hold shaking hands and wipe away tears streaming down cheeks flushed cheeks. It hurt more to think of what was going through Osamu’s head than his own ankle did.</p>
<p>Suna dragged his thumb slowly across the bark inside the tree. On his left side, right around where his knees bumped against the wood were messy carvings made with an old hunting knife they’d found in Suna’s garage. Carvings of stickmen playing volleyball and ‘Ginjima was here’ adorned the inside of their hideaway. Messily scratched into the old log, close to the dirt and leaf-covered floor, was a small ‘R + O’.</p>
<p>Suna opened his mouth to speak - willing himself to say something to make things better.</p>
<p>‘I love you’ clung to the tip of his tongue. It wouldn’t let go.</p>
<p>Some people are great with words. Suna was well aware that wasn’t. He wasn’t good with words, but that was always fine because Osamu wasn’t either.</p>
<p>Carefully he reached over to the other boy, slipping a cold, clammy palm into his own and gently squeezing.</p>
<p>A reminder. A reassurance. A silent ‘I love you’ that grey hair and dark eyes understood. His chest still ached, but his heart felt a little less heavy.</p>
<p>They sat in the silence of the forest together, listening intently with everything they had for the sound of an approaching demon that wanted their blood. For however many hours, minutes, or seconds they spent anticipating a call for an attack, they were greeted with nothing.</p>
<p>Somewhere deep in the back of Suna’s mind, pages upon pages of his biology textbook detailing the hunting habits of white-banded crab spiders and green herons flittered by. Warnings about luring your prey into a sense of security and jumping when the time is right.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna take a quick peek outside,” Osamu whispered, lips grazing the shell of Suna’s ear, “I’ll just be a second. Don’t move,”</p>
<p>He wanted to move, but not to follow. Safety is within mother-natures loving maternal grasp, between moss and bark-carved art. His motivations for stopping Osamu were purely selfish. Hiding away meant another second unaware of the presence of a manifestation of evil - it meant blissful ignorance through calculated little lies.</p>
<p>Despite what Suna so desperately wanted, he watched as Osamu slowly crawled out the entrance of the tree shelter anyway.</p>
<p>The boy turned the corner, out of sight and barely making a sound with each footstep further out into the open. Suna closed his eyes and listened carefully, counting each second without the other’s reassuring presence beside him.</p>
<p>
  <em>Step. Step. Crunch. Step. Step. Stop.</em>
</p>
<p>He heard Osamu stop somewhere out of sight in the world outside, and sucked in a breath. He held still until his lungs began to burn, the seconds passing since the other had gone to explore growing along with his worries.</p>
<p>The steps resumed, heading back towards their hiding spot. They moved with urgency, and Suna almost remembered what relief felt like.</p>
<p>The morning sun broke through the leaves of the forest treetop as Osamu approached their tree-hole again. A new day. Another chance. It was peaceful - blissful, almost - because Osamu wouldn’t be moving so carelessly out in the open if they weren’t safe. He wouldn’t be cracking twigs beneath bare feet and mud-stained sweatpants if he was scared or worried.</p>
<p>“Suna, the coast is clear,” came the disembodied voice from outside, “come on out. We can head back home now.”</p>
<p>It sounds like Osamu. Suna knows it’s not.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my first time writing anything like this, so thank you so much for reading and I seriously hope you enjoyed. As always I love hearing from you all in the comments, so I'd love to know what you think! </p>
<p>Special thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/httproblematic">httproblematic</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlebirdthattoldyou">thelittlebirdthattoldyou</a>, and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumenera/pseuds/lumenera">lumenera</a> for encouraging me to write this because it would absolutely not exist without them. </p>
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